“Are you safe to be with me tonight? I was recently tested and am safe to be with you.”
“Yes.” I let out a gasp as Lane puts a hand under my top, his touch finding I’m not wearing a bra. His fingers graze my nipple and the sound he lets out makes me realize how badly I want this.
“I’ll listen, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ve told me everything I need to know.” He makes his way up to my ear, placing soft kisses.
Well, that’s that.
Lane’s hand traces me through my jeans and I almost fall into his arms for the second time tonight. Anything I was going to say or come clean about is so far gone. He moves his hands enough to give me a taste of the friction I’m after.
“Roommate?” I look around at the apartment that’s bland and damn near empty.
“No. This is a one bedroom,” he answers before nipping at my ear lobe.
He pulls back and his eyes comb over me, the throbbing in my core getting stronger with each second he looks at me like that.
When he bends his knees to lift my legs around his waist, I groan and fall into him. My mouth meets his as he carries me down the hall like I weigh nothing. Why is that so hot?
Next thing I know, we’re in his bedroom. The walls are gray, bare, and there’s nothing to indicate he lives here besides a practice hockey jersey peeking out from his open closet.
Lane tosses me on the bed and the bedding surprises me. It’s soft and fluffy like a cloud as I run my hands over it. He gets to work on my jeans and he quickly pulls them off, throwing them to the floor.
My hands find my panties—a black, lacy thong—and I watch Lane lick his lips as I touch myself with him watching. Slowly, I slide my fingersdown the front of the fabric, my back arching when I get close to my clit. I'm never usually this bold, or forward, but having him look at me like I’m something to eat has me borderline losing it.
“My turn,” Lane growls while hooking his fingers at the top of my panties and swiftly yanking them off. I can’t help but let out a small laugh, running my hands over my body before they land in my hair.
Lane takes a finger and slowly pushes it inside me, groaning and rolling his eyes before finding mine. “Wet. So fucking wet,” he groans before putting the same finger in front of my mouth. Without questioning it, I suck myself off him, watching as a wicked grin breaks out across his lips.
“You’re fucking incredible,” he praises before putting a hard kiss on my mouth, brief and telling.
When he kisses down my body, I can’t get enough. I want him to taste me. Devour every inch. With his tongue. His teeth. He pauses in front of my center, lightly blows, and pulls his head back when I buck my hips up, aching for more.
“Don’t rush me. I'm taking in this perfect pussy,” he demands only millimeters from me, my clit feeling the pressure of each word.
He plants a soft kiss right on the spot where I’m practically begging for friction. I reach for the sheets, bunching them in my hand. Lane inserts a finger, slowly, and then licks me from where his finger fills my entrance to my clit. I let out a yelp when he reaches the bundle of nerves, circling with his tongue, and I can feel him smiling as he moves to kiss the inside of my thigh.
Lane adds another finger, slowly pumping in and out while lapping at me. His tongue doesn’t quit while his fingers move inside me, and then they hit the perfect rhythm. My hands immediately go from the sheets to the back of his head, lacing my fingers through his hair.
He groans into me, the vibration inching me closer. “Pull my hair, Lee.”
It’s official: this guy is experienced and it’s fucking hot. So, I do what I’m told. I pull some strands taut once, then again when he moans into me.
“Good girl, following directions.” He moves away from my clit long enough to get the words out.
The praise? It has my hips lifting, hands still in his hair, but pushing his mouth exactly where I need it. I shift underneath him and I know I’m close. Then Lane enters a third finger and that’s all it takes for me to come crashing down. My orgasm sprints through me, each cell, each piece of my body feeling the rush.
A scream rips from my throat with each wave of my climax, and Lane doesn’t stop. I come on his tongue as he licks and pumps with each shudder.
It’s not until my chest heaves with every breath and I let go of his hair that Lane looks at me. He crawls over me, hovering, his chest broad and massive.
"See how good you taste,” he murmurs before kissing me, his mouth open and tongue finding mine. I kiss him back, tasting him. Well, tastingme. The way he makes me want to say yes to anything, to everything; it’s addictive. It’s like there’s not another option.
Lane makes me want to say yes.
I reach my hands into the waistband of his pants, feeling his length through his briefs. When my fingers make contact, he rolls his head, cracking his neck. My hands touch him through the fabric and he whimpers.
I did that.
My hand slides under his briefs and when I brush his bare skin, I’m surprised by something. A piercing. Lane Maxwell has his dick pierced.
